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Morphine
The last cigarette is
more or less compared to the
last thought on a porch
Lights out
Down and off for the night
And in between the sheets and
the moon, another long and senseless
verse is formed
I was there, you know, the day of
your breaking
The day you packed my life into
trash bags and said good riddens
A target for your arrow of anger
Because the husband doesnt
say much
and he just doesnt do much
It hurt when you threw his most
prized possession and it split
his hand in two
because you know, he'd of never
done that for you
But you found some peace when
you resorted to the morphine
It's better that you hid them because
I would have been right there beside
you, talking about our autopsies
And we would have said
"you're a good mother, and I'm a
good daughter. So let's just love
each other for what we are"
But it would have forked the road
I'd have been somewhere in Canada or Jersey by now
And the rest would have been one of those "who knows" that
some stranger at a bar would have talked about
And you and I both know about that good burn in the back
of our throats
It is what we have settled for
because you ran out of morphine and I ran out of the energy of
carrying the love that you should have showed me sober
